"Oh, dammit!" Washington stepped back from the stove, looking down at his armor, now dripping with spaghetti sauce and bits of chives. He knew he should have dressed down to civilian clothes, but he'd been so hungry…

"Wow, good job there, dipshit." York came strolling through the kitchen and stopped by the stove, leaning in to sniff at the boiled-over pot of sauce. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to cook?"

"No, she…was too busy learning…sexual stuff…from…your mom." Dammit. He was so bad at comebacks. Sure enough, York let out a snort and shook his head.

"Wow. You really need to work on your retorts."

"You need to work on leaving me alone."

York tossed up his hands as he laughed heartily. "Fine, fine. I was just grabbing a snack, gonna go take a nap. Training this morning was rough. Wake me up before the meeting later, all right?" He walked over to the fridge and pulled an apple out of the crisper, tossing it between his hands.

"Yeah, whatever." Wash waved him away and he left, chuckling to himself. "Teach me how to cook," he muttered, stirring the sauce. "I'll teach you how to cook, you jerk…"

"Everything okay, Wash?"

He snapped his head up to see Carolina leaning against the kitchen island, frowning at him. She was always frowning at him. She saved her smiles for York, that cocky bastard. Yeah, sure, they were friends, but sometimes Wash just hated that he got the girl.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just spilled some sauce. I was in a hurry, I was starving."

"Here, let me help you with that." Carolina pushed herself away from the island and walked over, grabbing a small hand towel from a nearby counter she passed. She leaned in and started dabbing it against the chest of his armor, and he was suddenly grateful he was still wearing his helmet.

"Uh, thanks. I, uh, I got it though." He reached up and quickly grabbed the towel out of her hands, pushing it against the lower part of his armor that he didn't want her near. Her frown turned up into a small smile and she held out her hands, placing them on either side of his helmet. A second later he could feel the steam from the oven rushing in around his neck and cheeks as she pulled the helmet away, setting it on the counter.

"Here, that'll help."

"Thanks." Wash hoped she couldn't hear the trembling in his voice; he was hoping it sounded more like pained hunger.

"Anytime. So, spaghetti?" Carolina twisted a little and leaned with her backside against the counter next to the stove, crossing one leg over the other. She was dressed in workout pants and a tank top, and a light sheen of sweat covered her skin, likely fresh from a workout.

Wash averted his eyes and nodded, focusing on the bubbling pot of sauce. He grabbed the handle and moved the pot to a cold burner, reaching out to switch off the heat. His fingers met Carolina's, as she was moving to do the same thing. Their hands touched for a moment, and he hesitated, turning to look at her.

"What—"

"Did you taste it yet?"

"…What?"

"The sauce. You might need to add some more seasoning to it." Their hands broke apart and she moved around and behind him, barely brushing against the back of his armor. Once on his other side, she picked up a spoon from the counter, already wet with sauce from when he'd been stirring it. She dipped it into the pot and withdrew it, the concaved surface filled with red liquid, and brought it up near her lips, blowing on it lightly. The sauce rippled from the touch of her breath and Wash caught a sound coming up his throat, forcing it down.

"I'm sure it's fine," he said, his voice husky.

"Come on, try it." Carolina held the spoon up, her other hand cupped underneath, and moved it to just in front of Wash's mouth. He took a deep breath and moved his head forward a couple of inches, his mouth open. The hot metal was suddenly just above his tongue and he clamped his lips down around the stem of the spoon. Sauce washed over his tongue a half second later, filling his mouth with a delicious, almost spicy taste, with just a hint of garlic.

He swallowed and nodded, and she moved the spoon away from his lips. "It's good," he stammered. "I mean, I'm a good cook, yeah. It's good."

"Let me test it." She held out the spoon and he raised an eyebrow.

"Go for it."

"No, you dummy." She moved her hand in a small circle, indicating he should take the utensil. He let out a strangled noise and felt himself smile, despite the warnings going off in his head, and took the spoon from her, dipping it back into the sauce to retrieve another helping. He scraped the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the pot and raised it carefully, positioning his other hand underneath, like she had. She nodded slightly, opening her mouth as she closed her eyes.

The spoon disappeared between her lips as she closed them around it, and he could see the muscles in her throat contract slightly as she swallowed, opening her mouth. He pulled the spoon away and dropped it on the counter once more, watching her run her tongue over her lips, the corners turning up into a smirk.

"Delicious," she murmured, taking a step closer.

"Carolina—"

"Yes, Wash?" She was suddenly right in front of him, inches away, leaning up, her hands on his chest plate.

He frowned, knowing he should move away but choosing not acting on the impulse. "I should finish up here, go clean my armor. Sauce is a bitch to get out of the cracks."

"Yeah, maybe you should."

They stood in silence for a moment before Wash cleared his throat, looking up at the recessed lighting above them. "I, uh…I don't really need any help, I guess is what I'm saying."

She stepped lightly around him and picked up his helmet, tucking it under her arm. "I've got time," she breathed into his ear as she moved by his side, walking out of the kitchen, still holding the helmet.

Wash stared after her, confusion fighting the growing excitement in his brain. A minute later he was out the door, a small bowl of spaghetti sauce in his hands, leaving a trail of steam behind him as he scurried to catch up to the young woman.